


For as Long as We're Contending

by Compass_Rose



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Compass_Rose/pseuds/Compass_Rose
Summary: Virgil Wilson was a detective for the Plainfield PD. He was also the masked guardian Aegeus, who protected the city alongside his friends and teammates. It wasn't unusual for those two responsibilities to overlap, but the detective had to draw the line when the actions of one resulted in the need for the other. Children weren't supposed get caught in the crossfire.Roman Burgess was a fashion designer at Regal Couture, a company that produced only the most elegant designs for society's most elite consumers. He was also the valiant champion Nikos, who defeated evil with the help of the brother he had chosen and the friends he had found.  But when his half-brother reappears and throws his entire world into disarray, Roman is forced to reconsider what it means to be family.Patton Foster was an assistant to Roman Burgess. He was also the virtuous hero Arete, who showed bad guys the error of their ways and helped them return to the path of good. But when good and bad turn out to be less black and white than he thought, Patton struggles to accept that no one is perfect-not even a hero.Logan Powell was an RD scientist. He was also the super genius Pythagoras, the one who had all the answers. Or so he thought.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. In the Eyes of a Child

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about how short Logan's part of the summary is compared to the others. It wasn't intentional. The stupid character restrictions cut me off at the pass. Rest assured Logan has his own conflict to overcome as well.

Virgil Wilson stared blearily into the soft blue light of the monitor, trying not to flinch at the image of a brown-haired, blue-eyed little girl smiling back at him. His practiced gaze roamed every inch of her photograph, taking in even the smallest details, from the slight gap between her front two teeth, to the way her shoulder length hair lightened slightly at the tips—most likely a natural phenomenon, given her age and fact the difference in hue wasn’t all that severe. Sighing loudly, Virgil turned away from the screen, unable to bare the accusing weight of the picture any longer. His attention drifted down to the file folders littering his desk, and he swallowed against the tightness that had taken hold in his throat, one hand reaching blindly for his coffee cup.

She was only nine years old.

His fingers brushed against the Styrofoam cup and he leaned forward, unwilling to take his eyes off the papers even for a minute. Grabbing the cup, he pulled back to take a long swallow, wincing as the cold liquid assaulted his taste buds. How long had he been here, staring at a screen and memorizing page after page of information?

Not long enough. Not if he still barely knew anything about the case, not if he still had more questions than answers.

Here’s what Virgil already knew: her name was Sara Jones and she was nine years old. She had been missing since Friday of last week and she was last seen going into the Plainfield Public Library. She was never seen leaving. Her parents, Abigail and Ryan Jones, had already spoken to the police and to several investigators associated with Plainfield PD. No, they said, she didn’t mention going anywhere after the library. Yes, she knew better than to get into a stranger’s car. No, there wasn’t anyone they could think of who would want to hurt her or take her.

That was it. No leads, no explanations, no anything. One minute she was looking through the kids’ section in the library, then by the time it was shutting down, she was gone. The librarians had never noticed her leaving. And they would have noticed, Virgil thought. Apparently, Sara was a frequent visitor to the library, and well-beloved one too. She always took time to speak with the workers if they weren’t too busy. Sometimes, when the younger kids had story time, she would stay behind and help straighten up the plastic chairs and tables. The librarians knew her, and not many people came to the library on Friday afternoons—it had been a slow day. They would have noticed her leaving.

But no one had seen anything. No one had _heard_ anything. A kid who had no relatives anyone could place that might want to take her, who knew better than to talk to strangers, who should have been noticed leaving and definitely noticed if someone had tried to take her, just…disappeared. And no one knew why.

Virgil rubbed his eyes, exhaustion and failure weighing heavily on his shoulders.

She was only nine years old.

Shaking his head, as though that might help him think more clearly, Virgil thumbed through the police reports, resigning himself to another long night of studying information he already knew to try and find a nonexistent clue he missed. He had just turned to the transcript of the Jones’ follow-up report to the police when his cell began to _scream._

Not literally, of course. But for a moment, his sleep deprived brain interpreted it that way and he flailed in his seat, falling to the floor as he struggled to get away from the sudden, unexpected noise.

And then reality kicked in.

Scoffing at his own jumpiness, Virgil climbed to feet and brush himself off, grateful he had once again elected to take his work home with him. If anyone at the office had seen that he would _never_ have heard the end it. He quickly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer. There were only a handful of people who had his cell number, rather than the landline he gave out to doctors and his coworkers. If one of them was calling this number, it was urgent.

“What the problem?” He asked in lieu of greeting.

The voice on the other end was one he knew as well as his own. “There’s been a break in at Sanders Co. Pythagoras thinks it’s the Aos Sίdhe again.”

“Those clowns?” Virgil sneered, patting down his pants and shirt pockets. “Maybe if they didn’t name themselves after a literal Irish fairytale, I could take them seriously.”

Laughter floated over the speaker. “I _know_ right? I could come up with better names than that in my sleep! In fact, I think I did once.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a creative genius, I get it.” He pulled out a small, purple fidget cube with silver buttons, switches, knobs, and wheels on its’ various faces. “You at Sanders Co. yet, or—?”

“Arete and I are in bounds. ETA probably another 5 minutes.”

Virgil grunted a response and set the phone down for a moment, not wanting to toy with the cube one-handed. Muscle memory, rather than conscious recollection, guided his fingers and he skillfully pushed, flipped, turned, and spun each of the manipulatives in a very specific order. As soon as he flipped the last switch into place, a regal amethyst glow began to radiate from the small object. Satisfied, Virgil picked up the phone in time to hear the voice admit, “we could really use Aegeus out here tonight.”

“I know, idiot,” he retorted, watching as a silver holographic screen zapped into existence above the cube. Virgil quickly flicked through various displays, stopping only when he saw a familiar, detailed outfit on one of the panels. He gently, but hurriedly, set the cube on the desk before pressing his thumb and pointer finger against the suit, the way he would if he were trying to resize an image on his phone. Instead of resizing the picture, however, he pinched his thumb and finger tightly against the outfit and pulled back.

The suit fell away from the screen and into his hand, solid and human-sized and real in his grasp. “I’ll be there soon. Try to not to die until then.”

Offended spluttering came from the other end of the line. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I’m Nikos! None of these rejects from a Grimms fairy tale can hold a candle to me!”

“See, if I didn’t have to save your butt on pretty much a monthly basis, I might believe that.”

“You—!” Virgil wisely decided rudeness was the better part of valor and hung up the phone. As amusing as it was to get under Nikos’s skin, they didn’t exactly have the luxury of time right now. With this thought in mind, he quickly changed into his suit, remembering to place his ‘civilian’ clothes within the fidget cube in case he needed to change back quickly. Slipping the cube into one of his pockets, he took one last, apologetic look at the abandoned files on his desk before darting out into the night.

~~She was only nine years old.~~


	2. Showdown at Sanders Co.

The battle was well underway by the time Aegeus arrived. A quick scan of the lobby revealed no more than twelve opponents, each wearing nearly identical grey polyester bodysuits and shining black helmets. And, of course, each one carried a nice, shiny if somewhat oddly shaped, handgun. Wonderful.

Aegeus stepped carefully into the gaping hole in the side of the building—he hoped Sanders Co. had good villain insurance, or someone was gonna be _pissed_ —and inched his way along the inner wall, sticking to the shadows as much as he could. In front of the reception desk, Nikos was engaging four targets on his own, surrounded by a plasma shield and armed with his own version of the weird looking gun.

Aegeus breathed a silent sigh of relief. At least the idiot had _remembered_ to draw up a shield this time.

Over near the windows, the latecomer caught sight of his other field partner, Arete, being shot at by two other marks. The hero was pressed against a crumbling pillar, his small size offering him a slight advantage in terms of cover. Aegeus made his way toward fight, not pausing even as the comm unit embedded in his HUD crackled to life.

“Be cautious of their artillery when engaging, Aegeus.”

“What are we looking at, Pythagoras?” Aegeus muttered over the comm-link, carefully circling around the fight.

“The weapons appear to be Advanced Super Containment models. Based on the input I’ve been receiving from the others’ suit cameras; I have been able to place them as category 7 Blaster projectiles.”

Aegeus glanced at the neon green lasers currently being fired at one of his teammates. “Blasters, huh? Never would’ve guessed.”

“I do not believe this is the opportune time for your sarcasm.”

“Shows what you know, there’s always time for sarcasm,” Aegeus replied distractedly, his mind running a mile a minute. Category 7 weapons were definitely on the Try Hard to Avoid side of the danger scale. They were designed specifically with the goal being able to temporarily secure supers with invulnerability, kind of similar to how a taser could briefly incapacitate a non-powered individual without causing lasting damage. Problem was, for supers _without_ invulnerability, being shot by a category 7 gun was more like being electrocuted by a mad scientist who was no longer on speaking terms with his Board of Ethics.

In other words, ‘It freaking hurt’ was a massive understatement.

The grunts—they would have shown some form of superhuman ability by now if they had any rank at all in the Aos Sίdhe organization, Aegeus knew—were closing in on Arete. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The quiet super sprung from the shadows, kicking at one of the idiots’ legs and causing them to fall. Their partner turned, surprised by the sudden appearance of a third hero. To be fair, the moron only froze for a few seconds, but a few seconds was all Aegeus needed. He drove his fist into the grunt’s solar plexus, then as they doubled over, he smashed a right-hook into the soft underside of their jaw, where the metal casing of the helmet was just too short to reach. The grunt dropped hard and fast, and Aegeus watched carefully, making sure they stayed down.

Behind him, the first lackey he attacked raised his blaster and took careful aim.

“Aegeus, watch out!”

The hero turned, his eyes widening behind mask as he heard the low whine of the gun and saw the flash of neon green light. He tried to move, to dodge, but super speed wasn’t one of his powers. He had no hope of outrunning the laser.

Much like Aegeus had earlier, Arete now leapt from behind his cover, racing over to the assailant and tackling them in a bearhug from behind. Where his arms touched their suit, a fuchsia glow took root and began to spread, covering the enemy in a reddish-pink light. The sudden weight of another person had been enough to throw off the shooter’s aim, allowing Aegeus to escape unharmed, and he watched as the grunt struggled against Arete—wildly at first, then less and less as the glow continue to encase them, until finally they slumped in the hero’s hold, shaking their head in confusion as the gun fell from their weakened grip.

Arete released them gently, easing them to the ground, and they looked up at the hero, speaking in a tone that very likely meant they were also blinking in confusion behind their helmet. “Wh-what happened? I don’t-I don’t feel right. What did you do to me?”

“Shh,” Arete knelt beside them, and Aegeus could hear the warm smile, the confident certainty in his voice. “It’s ok now. Everything’s going to be ok. I know you never really wanted to hurt anyone, right?”

“Wanted to hurt—? No, that would be bad. But my job—I was supposed to…” They trailed off, raising a gloved hand to the side of their helmet. “You’re the enemy, and the boss wants you—but that would be bad, and I—I’m good? But, no that’s—I can’t—!” They whimpered, gripping both sides of the helmet now and curling their fingers against the smooth metal, as though they were trying to reach their hair on the other side. “This—this is wrong. It’s all wrong! What did you _do_ to me?”

“I helped you,” Arete said simply, his voice still impossibly tender. “I set you free. You don’t have to be a bad guy anymore. You don’t have to work for Aos Sίdhe. You can be good now.”

“But that’s not— I didn’t ask for—” Another whimper fell from the former henchman’s mouth, and he curled in on himself, fingers scratching even harder against the helmet. “It’s not me. It’s _not me_! I don’t know where I am, anymore! Who I am…”

“You can be whoever you want to be,” Arete assured them. “I know it seems scary now, but you’ll see. Everything will be better this way, just you wait.”

The grunt only turned away, another aborted cry passing his lips. Arete patted his shoulder sympathetically, then rose and met his teammate in the middle of the room.

“Are you ok, Aegeus?”

“Fine,” the other hero replied curtly, turning away.

Arete…drooped. There was no other word for it. “Aegeus…”

“Thanks for the help,” Aegeus replied, and that at least was sincere. If Arete hadn’t stepped in when he did, it would have been bad. But even knowing that, the watchful super couldn’t quite bring himself to ignore what had happened to the henchman in the process—what Arete had done to save him.

What he probably would have done much earlier if he had only been able to reach them sooner.

Aegeus scanned the battlefield once more, finding that four more mooks were heading directly for them. Two remained stationed in front of the elevator, almost as though they were guarding it. Arete straightened at his side, running to intercept the attack and Aegeus resigned himself to follow. Maybe, if he hurried, he could take most of the idiots out before Arete had to use his power again.

“Aegeus,” Pythagoras’s voice crackled over the comm-link. “The energy readings I’m receiving from Nikos’s suit suggest the plasma shield he’s created will soon fade. He will need your assistance in restraining his assailants.”

Aegeus cursed. Loudly. Pythagoras politely ignored the lapse in self-control. “How long can he last, L?”

“By my estimation, another three minutes. Then his shield will fade and the Aos Sίdhe operatives’ weaponry will be of an effect to him once again.”

“It’s ok, Aegeus,” Arete cut into the conversation. “Go help Nikos. I can take care of these guys.”

Frankly, that’s what Aegeus was worried about. “Are you sure? What if they pin you down again?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan!”

That was _not_ the right thing to say to make Aegeus stop worrying. But a glance in Nikos’s direction confirmed the severity of the situation—his shield was beginning to flicker and buckle, shimmering in and out of existence under the force of the blasts exploding against it. Aegeus snarled another swear. “Fine. Just…be careful, ok? And Arete? If there’s any way you can stop them without your powers…”

“I—I don’t think so, Aegeus. But it’ll be fine. You’ll see! Just worry about helping Nikos, and let me handle the rest, ok?”

“Yeah,” The cautious hero muttered, his face pinching slightly behind his mask. “Sure. Whatever you say, Arete.”

If he heard the doubt in Aegeus’s voice, the optimistic fighter didn’t say a word. Reluctantly, Aegeus forced his attention back to Nikos, trying to ignore the way his chest tightened with every step he put between himself and the battle behind. It seemed to take an eternity, and yet only a moment, for him to reach Nikos’s side and when he arrived, he found the artistic champion panting and trembling where he stood, too much of his strength tied up in maintaining the shield to be able to find another way out.

“Nikos, lower the back part of the shield.”

There was no response.

“I’m trying to help you, idiot! This is not the time to let your stupid pride get in the way.”

The encapsuled super didn’t say anything. He didn’t do anything, just continued to stand in the middle of the forcefield, his hands outstretched and shaking as he tried to hold the defense. In between bursts of neon fire and the grunts’ bitter cuss words, Aegeus could hear the ragged edge of his breathing.

“Nikos, seriously, let me in _now_!”

The comm-link suddenly crackled with static, and for a moment, pure relief flooded through Aegeus. It drained out of him seconds later, leaving a cold fear in its’ wake as Pythagoras interrupted the rather one-sided conversation.

“He can’t respond, Aegeus. The communications unit between the three of us and he has been severed.”

“Severed? By who? How is that even possible?! I thought you had comms on a private network! You swore it was secure!”

“Yes, well.” There was a pregnant pause, and Aegeus could just imagine Pythagoras straightening his ever-present necktie; he always did when he was particularly confused (which didn’t happen often, thankfully) or stressed. “It appears that security has been compromised.”

A million questions engulfed Aegeus’s mind at once, ranging from ‘How did some two-bit hack break into _your_ virtual Alcatraz’, to ‘Are we absolutely sure comms was the _only_ system they screwed with’. He chose to voice the most immediate concern. “How am I supposed to get to Nikos if I can’t talk to him? Shield’s still flickering too fast for me to be able to get through one my own.”

“You’re going to wait for the barrier to fail and approach him then,” Pythagoras replied distantly, likely already focused on tracking down whoever had successfully broken into his network.

“That’s your solution? Are you crazy?! There’s no way I can outrun those blasters! Once the shield drops, Nikos will have no protection and no _time_ to create a new way out!” And say what you will about Aos Sίdhe, but they didn’t hire ‘Stormtrooper’ fighters. Those grunts knew how to hit a target.

“I am aware the situation is less than ideal. However, there’s no viable alternative. You cannot reach Nikos with the barrier active, and you cannot move fast enough to pass through safely during a loss of structural support. Waiting for the barrier to fail is the only logical answer.”

Aegeus growled, channeling all his frustration, his anger and fear, into a wordless shout. He didn’t necessarily have to worry about being quiet; the grunts’ stupid helmets blocked out sound better than his best pair of noise-cancelling headphones. Unfortunately, it seemed that Nikos’s shield blocked out sound equally well—either that, or he was so focused on keeping his forcefield intact that he was completely unaware of anything happening outside of the battle. It wouldn’t be the first time, in all honesty.

Aegeus paced in a jagged sort of line; his eyes narrowed to pinpricks behind his mask. That was it, then? He was supposed to stand idly by and wait for the barrier to fall, wait for Nikos to get shot, maybe even killed, in the time it would take him to reach the visionary’s side? That was the only _logical_ course of action?

Well.

Screw that.

Aegeus had never just stood aside when his teammates were in danger before; he wasn’t about to start now.

Like he had done with Arete before, he carefully maneuvered his way behind Nikos’s opponents. Like before, he managed to take one out, stealthily and sneakily, before anyone knew he was there. But this time, he didn’t wait to make sure the grunt stayed down. He couldn’t afford to. The moment he brought the shooter to the floor, three other heads turned to face him, fluorescent lighting flashing ominously off their vizors*.

Raising one hand in a crass gesture, Aegeus bolted, taking advantage of their stunned surprise while he could.

It didn’t take long for them to start chasing after him. It took only slightly longer for the low whine of the blasters to reach his ears, and Aegeus pushed himself even harder. He may not be able to outrun lasers, but he didn’t have to.

All he had to do was buy Nikos a little time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me there was a few things I forgot to mention in my first chapter note. Like 'how the heck do we pronounce these awesome superhero names, Compass_Rose?', for example. So:
> 
> Virgil/Aegeus (ee-Gee-Us): means Protection in Greek
> 
> Roman/Nikos (Knee-co-s): Taken from the Grecian painter Nikos Eggonopoulos, who is recognized as one of the most important artists of the Surrealism movement. His artwork is said to represent the human subconscious or imaginary world. You can find out more about him with a Google search or with this link here https://www.definitelygreece.com/greek-painters/
> 
> Patton/Arete (Uh-rate): Taken from the ancient Greek concept meaning excellence (of any kind). It was also used to refer to a person's moral virtue. 
> 
> Logan/Pythagoras (Puh-tha-gore-us): Taken from the ancient Grecian philosopher and mathematician Pythagoras of Samos. He was a very intelligent individual who coined many of the mathematical and scientific theories used today, most notably the Pythagorean Theorem. You can find out more about him with a google search. 
> 
> Also, I'm including a summary of the group's powers below. I'm not putting in the tags because some people may want to be surprised, but I realize others might like to go into the story with a more complete picture. My apologies for overlooking this earlier, and please skip this section if you wish to avoid 
> 
> [SPOILERS]
> 
> Logan/Pythagoras: Super genius. Remember in Lilo and Stich where Jumba says Stitch can 'think faster than super computer'? Logan is at least that smart (though he would probably take offense at having his intellect compared with that of a two-dimensional cartoon. Nobody tell him.)
> 
> Roman/Nikos: Can make anything he draws appear in the physical world, but there are limitations. He can only make the constructs last for an hour before they disappear, and he has to draw by hand. Something about electronic programs mess with his powers (Logan is still trying to figure it out). Additionally, he has to be able to complete an artwork before imagining it. Anything that's only partway constructed won't be stable enough to manifest in the real world.
> 
> Patton/Arete: Has two powers. The first is morality viewing, which is an involuntary/passive ability that allows him to determine whether or not a situation, event, or person is fundamentally good or bad. This can range from seeing a game at a carnival and knowing it's rigged just by looking at it (but not necessarily knowing how), to being able to tell if a person-devoid of all connections and situational choices-is fundamentally good or evil. 
> 
> The second is morality inversion, which allows him to invert the moral position of others, turning a bad person good or vice versa. People affected by Patton's morality inversion still have control over themselves, they merely are no longer as inclined to behave as they did previously. If they thought kicking their dog was ok before, for example, Patton's power could force them to recognize that it's not ok and make them want to stop, but it couldn't necessarily force them to treat the dog kindly. Additionally, in order for Patton to use his power, he has to have physical contact with the person. 
> 
> Virgil/Aegeus: Has two powers. The first is Adrenaline Burst (trademark Roman Burgess) which allows Virgil to boost an individual's natural abilities (speed, strength, sensory perception, and reflexes) to their highest possibly level for a period of one hour. After that, the recipient crashes hard, often to the point of not being able to walk on their own. In the case of supers, Adrenaline Burst can also temporarily strengthen their powers, allowing them to bypass time limits or distance restrictions for a short amount of time. Limitations include the fact that Virgil has to be touching someone to activate this power, and the fact that he can only use it on others, not himself.
> 
> The second (and the one Virgil tries to avoid using if there is literally any other way) is Distortion (trademark Roman Burgess), which allows Virgil to take control over almost anyone. The distortion corrupts Virgil's voice (yes, like in that one episode where they went to Patton's room to get over a break up, that's what inspired this), and anyone who hears it obeys any command Virgil gives them in that voice. Those who are affected still have self-awareness, they see what they're doing, they're just powerless to stop it. Only those who can hear the distortion are affected, and there is no time limit on how long the control lasts--either Virgil has to choose to release it or he has to lose consciousness or be otherwise prevented from access his power. However, strong-willed individuals are much more difficult to control, and if someone's will is strong enough they could conceivably break the control. Additionally, it's easier for Virgil to control those he's familiar with, as he knows what makes them tick.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. This is third story I've started since 2021 began. But in my defense, my brain made a pretty convincing argument:
> 
> Me: We should really write chapter 2 for our werewolf fic. Or our Pokemon AU. Or the OUAT crossover. Which one do you want to work on first?
> 
> Brain: Well, yes, we could do that. But I've been thinking. Do you remember how you read all those Superhero AUs before bed last night? 
> 
> Me: ...I don't like where this is going. 
> 
> Brain: Because we should totally write one of our own!
> 
> Me: No!
> 
> Brain: I have so much motivation for a Superhero AU.
> 
> Me: No! We already have four unfinished stories, one of which is over a year old! We need to be responsible and deal with our other commitments.
> 
> Brain: That's a good point. You know what else is a good point? Superhero AU!
> 
> Me: It's unoriginal. They've been done to death. We don't need to jump on that bandwagon.
> 
> Brain: Don't worry, I've got a whole list of things we can do differently! We can make the trope our own! It'll be fun!
> 
> Me: Fantastic. At any point while you were redesigning an entire sub-genre, did you happen to come up with any ideas for the stories we're already committed to writing?
> 
> Brain: .....
> 
> Me: ......
> 
> Brain: So about that Superhero AU--
> 
> I tried folks. I really did. But my stupid brain saw a Shiny and wouldn't let it go. Now here we are, and I figure if I have to grapple with yet another attention-stealing plotbunny, so do all of you. So, suffer.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> ~Compass_Rose


End file.
